


Stabbed

by Cdelphiki



Series: Whumptober 2018 [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Robin: Son of Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, League of Assassins - Freeform, This poor child someone hug him, Violence, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: Damian Al Ghul is six-years-old.  The grandson of Ra's Al Ghul.  An assassin in training and the future of the League of Assassins.  Some days, he really enjoys his life.  The glory, the respect, and the teachers bring him much pleasure.  Other days, however, he dares to think he hates his life.WhumptoberDay 1: Stabbed





	Stabbed

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by The Shadow/Batman #4.

The sword weighed heavily in Damian’s hands. It was a sword slightly too large for his six-year-old body, but not one he couldn’t wield with the grace and expertise of a master swordsman. 

But he was tiring. 

The match had been going on for nearly an hour, and Damian was reaching the ends of his strength. His instructor was one of the best swordsmen in the League, but Damian had been studying under him for two years. Today was supposed to be the day the child prodigy, grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul bested the master in a duel. 

With the sudden memory that his Grandfather was watching from the side, Damian found another burst of energy and rebounded in his attacks against his mentor. 

Every blow he dealt out was precise and strong. He used his size to his advantage, ducking below counterattacks, striking low, forcing his opponent to hunch over and bend awkwardly. It usually worked well when Damian was pitted against the assassins, but his mentor knew all his tricks. 

But Grandfather was growing impatient, and Damian needed to win this match. He had to prove he was worthy of calling himself an Al Ghul. Worthy of his place. 

Then he saw it. The shift in Nadir’s body, the glean in his eyes, the way his hand loosened just slightly. Damian saw all this just as he gave it one last final blow, slamming his sword into his beloved mentor’s, causing the man’s sword to tumble to the ground. 

Hiding his confusion, Damian lifted his sword to Nadir’s throat and called the match completed. He stood there, panting heavily as Nadir smiled at him with his eyes, not daring to show such affection in any other manner. Not in front of Grandfather. Not where anyone could see. 

“Finish it,” Ra’s deep voice commanded from behind Damian. 

The boy’s arm twitched as he processed what had just been demanded of him. What he was ordered to do. Nadir was still smiling at him, his arms held out to the side in surrender. 

Damian took a deep breath. Then another. And another. 

He focused on keeping his breathing under control while he stared up at the man he’d admired for two years. The man who had taught him so much in swordsmanship. Who he’d spent often 12 hours a day with, every single day. The man he’d seen more of than his own mother. The one who snuck him desserts when no one was looking. Who smiled at him freely. Offered praise. Called him ‘little one.’ 

“Now,” his grandfather demanded. 

In Nadir’s eyes, all Damian could see was resignation. Acceptance. Forgiveness. 

Ever since his primary caretaker had been taken from him at four, Nadir was the closest thing he had. Damian wanted to cry. 

He didn’t, though. Crying would not result in anything pleasant. Not at all. So, Damian took a grounding breath and lowered his sword, instead. 

Nadir frowned, the gentle affection in his eyes morphed into fear. Fear for Damian.

The child took great pride in his ability to stifle his flinch when he heard his grandfather stand suddenly and begin his angry trek to where Damian stood. He readied himself for the blow he expected. Turned his head down in shame and closed his eyes. 

Ra’s did not strike Damian. To his shock, Damian’s grandfather gently took the sword from his hands and stepped toward Nadir. 

“Please,” Damian whispered, before he could stop himself from speaking out against Ra’s. 

He couldn’t have his mother. Couldn’t have his father. Couldn’t have his caretaker. Couldn’t have Nadir. What could Damian have?

The ancient man ignored his grandson and loomed over the teacher. “My grandson needs a teacher, not a coddler. Your services are no longer required.” 

That’s all Damian had in his life. Teachers. Instructors. Silent servants. 

“No,” Damian cried as he watched the sword plunge into Nadir’s chest, impaling the man’s heart. Within a minute he’d bled out across the polished floor. 

The young assassin turned his head.

With as much theatrics as possible, and no remorse in his eyes, Ra’s wiped the blood from Damian’s blade and turned to his young grandson. “You,” the man snapped, his tone as sharp as the blade he was now pointing at Damian, “have failed me today.” 

Damian straightened himself stiffly and tilted his gaze to his grandfather’s feet. Regardless of what was coming, Damian knew arguing or speaking out against his grandfather would make it worse. 

He had disappointed his grandfather. He was a disgrace. Had he been a servant, he would already be dead. Just like Nadir.

Ra’s took a step forward and struck Damian across the face, knocking him to his knees. 

Damian could do this. He could. He didn’t need Nadir. He didn’t need anyone to coddle him. He was the grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul. He wasn’t-

He could-

Before he could regain his feet, Ra’s stopped him with the tip of Damian’s sword, catching the edge of his chin to hold him still. The child suppressed a shudder as the cold blade prickled his skin and he resisted the urge to run. 

He- he was just a child. 

“You,” the ancient man said, his voice cold and hard, as he forced Damian to lift his head with the sword, “will not disobey me again.” 

Damian’s arms shook and he cursed his weak biology. His childish fear. Had Nadir made him soft?

When Damian stayed silent, Ra’s grew angrier, and Damian could see the spark of Lazarus green in his eyes. 

He was nothing but a disappointment. A stain on the Al Ghul name. There was a reason no one cared for him.

“Do you understand, boy?” Ra’s thundered. 

Would he ever be worthy of his name? 

Damian’s cheek stung as the flat of his blade struck him in the same place Ra’s hand had seconds ago. Tiny pricks of blood escaped the thin gash left behind and Damian struggled to keep his composure. His dignity as he left his hands by his side, refusing to reach up to touch the pain that was now the side of his face. 

“Yes, Grandfather,” Damian forced out, his voice betraying the treacherous fear he felt. 

“You,” Ra’s growled again, “continue to exist at my sufferance.” 

And Damian realized. He wasn’t a child. He was nothing.

He was expendable. Replaceable. 

“Never forget that, Grandson.”

He would just have to work harder.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://cdelphiki.tumblr.com)


End file.
